The Art of Losing
by Kyootulu
Summary: A sudden and unexpected moment in the aftermath of a roadside skirmish brings a heavy blanket of worry over Alistair's party. This takes place after the story "For A Change."
1. Chapter 1: Out to Lunch

**Chapter 1: Out to Lunch**

Oh, great. And here I wanted to stop for lunch, too.

But no, dreams of beef jerky or stew have to be put on hold, for now. Nothing really dashed an appetite as effectively as a horde or two of Darkspawn rushing at you and your party on the road to the next town. It's the smell, I think, the air reeked of molten earth, death and steel. It could also be the sounds of bloodthirsty snarling, or the fact that with the rows of teeth, and horns, and fangs in the very front, you just can't help but realize that if you're not careful, you're the lunch break instead of some poor bovine. Being the meat in a Darkspawn sandwich, of course, was unacceptable to me. As I heard Elissa yell out a warning, my sword was out, and my shield in the ready.

I once knew a Warden by the name of McGregor who always yelled something about the 'whites of their eyes' before charging. It had to be some kind of expression, because it was downright suicide to let a Darkspawn get that close before cutting it down. The bigger ones, especially, the ones that wielded the long poleaxes. Then again, McGregor was a berserker. Those blokes never did feel pain normally like the rest of us.

Before I knew it, there were five Darkspawn on me. I dug my heels onto the dirt and slammed my shield forward, yanking it up to smash the edge right up the underside of the taller one's jaw. My sword did the work in giving me some room, swiping it in a broad arc to take out the looming beast in my periphery and sliding the sharp blade through the ribs of the one directly in front. While I jerked my arm away, I swung the sword sideways to lop off the fourth's head. The fifth backed away, charging up the incline leading to a plateau a few feet off the ground.

Sometimes, it's great being me.

I followed, running up the slanted surface. I don't know precisely when she got there, but Elissa suddenly materialized, moving in the other side so silently, so quietly I almost turned on her. She flanked the escaping Darkspawn's other side, and when I rammed my shield against it, she twisted away, a deadly cyclone of sharp objects and pointy things, spinning around and sweeping her dagger sideways to slit its throat. It went down heavily. Between the two of us, it didn't stand a chance.

I looked up and grinned, despite the rolling rivulets of hot blood that spattered on the side of my face. "I'm not the sort to harp on my own magnificence and all," I joked, turning sideways to stab my sword through another one that followed us up. "But I think we work pretty well together!"

"We've been fighting together for months," Elissa replied, and while breathless, she grinned back at me. "If we haven't learned how to dance together effectively by now, I'd be a little concerned about our collective learning curve. Incoming!"

I sidestepped at the same time she did, letting the Darkspawn rush past us. She dropped to sweep a leg under it, and once it fell off-balance against her extended limb, I lowered my shield and rammed it into the small of its back. The Darkspawn unleashed a satisfactory roar as it fell off the plateau. I whipped my blade to the side in a mock salute, and flashed a triumphant smirk towards my commander's direction. However, she wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead, her expression turned somewhat gray, and before I knew it, she was running.

"Wynne!" she cried as she barreled towards the edge.

My gaze swept over our current battlefield, locking on the white-haired mage instantly. A group of Darkspawn had clustered around her, and thanks to my higher vantage point, I realized in just a few seconds that something was egregiously wrong. Her shield was flickering, sparks of magic fading like morning mist.

"Elissa!" I hollered, running after her. "You're going the wrong way!"

What in the bloody Dark was she doing?!

She got to the edge, and leaped, her arms spread. The two blades she wielded glinted dangerously off the light of the high-noon sun, streaked with the dark blood of slain foes. I skidded to a stop before I followed her off the plateau entirely. There was no way I'd be able to land safely, not with all my armor. While the templar get-up I managed to salvage was fantastic in withstanding damage, it had the drawback of being heavy. If I had attempted the jump, I'd be breaking a leg. I wasn't the acrobatic sort anyway. I stared, my heart in my throat, watching her land on a group of small Genlocks that had the misfortune of taking position beneath us when she jumped.

Maker's breath, I'm going to have gray hairs before I'm thirty.

I dashed down the incline, and ran past Sten, giving him a wide berth as I did. The famous Yusaris sword was held securely in his two-fisted grip, and I wasn't about to get in range of it. A Genlock poised to pursue Elissa was foiled by the sudden appearance of Percival, who managed to pounce on it and take several chomping bites off its head. I didn't stop. Morrigan nearly fried me when I got closer to her position. I ducked when lightning flashed from her fingers and crashed into the cluster of Hurlocks on the far, opposite side of me.

"Watch it!"

"Keep yourself out of the line of fire, then!"

Leliana and Zev made a good pair, themselves. Their fighting styles complimented one another. The bard preferred the bow, and whatever she couldn't pick off, Zev did once he got in close quarters. I ran past them as I tried to catch up with my fellow Warden, feeling the burn in my lungs as I tried to move as fast as I was able despite all my armor.

Elissa's charge was desperate, and the less conscious parts of me knew why. Everyone respected Wynne, even Morrigan, in her own way. Her guidance, especially with our present commander, was always invaluable. I've seen the two of them on occasion speaking quietly at camp, ever since we resolved the Tower's little problem several weeks back. Their interactions only grew, and so did Wynne's affection towards Elissa, and vice versa. I saw it plain as day. Truth be told it reminded me of how I used to be with Duncan, during the first days of my induction into the Order. It was that sympathy that kept my frustrations at bay, really. She shouldn't do that, I thought, jumping into the fray so recklessly. Wynne would never approve, even if she was the one Elissa was trying to save.

The shield shattered, magical power swirling outwards and knocking several Darkspawn down. I couldn't see Wynne anymore, not with the mass of bodies clustering around her. Elissa yelled something I couldn't discern, not with all the blood pounding in my ears when panic took ahold of me too. It only spurred me to run faster, to cut down whatever dared to get in my way. When I saw her toss her blades away to jerk up a shortbow and quiver she found on the ground, I ground my feet into the dust sideways. I twisted around, dragging a line into the dirt and angling my sword in a defensive position and covering her the best I could. Whatever passed this line was going to meet a sordid end.

The whistle of each arrow as they flew was sharp in the air. Elissa preferred light blades, though she had some proficiency with a bow and arrow. They weren't going to be enough to kill them, but they were enough to attract the Darkspawn's attentions. They left the mage, who crumpled on her knees into the dirt, and ran for us. I slashed through three that tried to get behind us while Elissa hurled her pilfered items in the face of the nearest one and grabbed the blades she had left on the ground. She wasn't much of a warrior, she told me once. Her advantage mostly came from fighting dirty.

When it was over, everyone was dusty, blood -streaked and tired. I wiped my blade on one of the corpses on the ground before sheathing it again, to keep the blood from drying and the blade from sticking. With everyone accounted for, as Elissa made sure of it, injuries were patched up before we started walking again. It was almost brutal, after a hard fight, with little options but to press forward to get to a safer area to set up camp. Everyone was exhausted, but alive. As always, my fellow Warden took the front.

See, this is what I never understood. Why couldn't we get horses? Wouldn't this back and forth across Ferelden go faster with them? I'm certain Arl Eamonn could spare us a few, couldn't he?

The idea was something to consider. I concentrated enough on it that I missed the heavy thud somewhere behind us. It was only Elissa's exclamation of alarm that pulled me out of my reverie, twisting sideways to follow that brilliant head of red hair move for...

"Wynne," I breathed. I dropped my pack, moving towards the fallen mage. Leliana followed while the rest stopped and did the same to cluster around the older woman.

I don't know what happened. I saw Elissa reach for her, to help her sit up a bit. The mage's pale fingers were on her head, and she looked ill. Unwell. Was it poison? I dropped on a knee close by.

"What did you do, Granny?" I joked. To my credit, there was no sign of worry in my tone. "The years catching up with you or what?"

"F...forgive me," Wynne said, her soft voice more of a sigh than anything else. "I think I might have...overexerted myself. I apologize for worrying you all."

"Can you stand?" Leliana asked, concern etched on her features.

I wasn't about to let Wynne get up and walk. Not after that. Getting on my feet, I stooped over, and before Wynne could protest, I slipped my arms around her shoulders and the back of her knees, bearing her upwards. That was the one, good thing about clanking about in armor all day long; I was accustomed to carrying weight, and I wasn't about to ask Sten to carry Wynne for us, even though he'd be more than able to handle the task.

Wynne actually squawked in surprise as I did. "Alistair, really, I'm fi-- "

"Oh, I know you're fine," I replied flippantly, dismissing my worries in favor of moving forward. It was too dangerous to linger here. "But I figured since you were never married now's as good of an opportunity as any to introduce you to the concept of a bridal carry. Don't say I never tried to teach you anything."

She was too exhausted to argue, and too perceptive not to notice the apprehension I was trying to hide. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her eyes half-closing. "You're a good lad," she murmured, matronly affection lacing every syllable.

"Sten," Elissa began quietly, turning to the large qunari. "Would you mind taking up the rear guard for the time being?" I usually did, but these circumstances were rather extenuating.

"As you wish."

We pressed on forward. Wynne didn't add that much by way of burden, she was light, after all. Elissa moved a step next to me, occasional glances cast towards the slumbering mage. For once, she wasn't a few steps ahead, our walking, talking Darkspawn alarm from the front.

Gratitude shone from her eyes when they met mine. I flashed her the most reassuring smile I had in me.

Looks like there could be something to this "gentleman" bit, after all.


	2. Chapter 2: Facing the Inevitable

**Chapter 2: Facing the Inevitable**

The mood in camp this evening was quiet in comparison to the last few nights. Since Oghren joined us from Orzammar, things have been particularly livelier than usual. I half-expected Oghren and Sten not to get along, considering they were complete opposites of one another; from temperament down to their boot sizes, but they surprisingly got on well enough. Still, Wynne's condition cast a considerably dour pallour on the group. Appearances aside, the mage was well-regarded, if not well-loved. She was, to be honest, the first mage I've met that I genuinely liked. She was also our best healer, our outlook on survival was bleak enough as it was with her. Without her....

They have been in her tent for hours. Elissa and Leliana had been working together for most of the evening to care for Wynne, to ensure that she was comfortable and that she wasn't in any pain. There was a lot about this situation I didn't understand. I saw no mark on her, no sign of grievous injury when I carried her to our current campsite. She wasn't bloodied, and she wasn't even bruised. If she were poisoned, we would be running to the next village to grab a healer immediately, but the woman herself, when she had returned to consciousness a few hours ago, told us that she was most certainly not poisoned and all she needed was a good rest. Now, this might come as a shock to everyone involved, but I thought that was a lot of crap. Thankfully, I kept myself from saying so. The last thing I needed was Leliana glaring at me for being crass around the sick.

Still, all this waiting was agony.

I don't remember how long I lingered around the campfire, sitting on the same, damned log and keeping my eyes pinned on the tent directly across from it. I didn't know what else to do with myself. My constant pacing was irritating Sten, I refused the drink Oghren offered me, and the only marginal comfort I received all this evening after what had happened was Percival padding over to me and dropping his Mabari war-dog self on my feet and letting out a sympathetic snuff. I must have been emanating waves of tension as even Morrigan stopped at my area, and rolled her eyes at me when she passed.

"I don't understand why you're so wound-up about this," she demanded, her hand planted on a cocked hip and eyeballing me in that same, irritatingly imperious manner I associated with her. "She's old, Alistair. These things happen."

This was the part where I blunt her fangs with a well-placed remark, but I didn't have the heart to do that at this moment. "Don't you have anything better to do?" I grunted. "Darkspawn to fry, babies to eat, things like that?"

Alright, so I lied.

The vehemence of my tone surprised even me. I caught the barest flicker of surprise from the Witch's face after it. If I were in any other mood, I'd actually say something more like myself, but at the moment, I decided I didn't care.

She sniffed at me and moved away, and I continued grousing internally as I kept watch on the tent. After a few more minutes, there was, finally, movement. I saw the tent flap part, and Leliana stepped out. I leapt to my feet, and didn't waste any time heading in her direction.

"What happened?" I demanded, before the bard could even say anything to me. "How is she feeling?"

"Alistair." Her hand was surprisingly gentle. In all the months I've known her since she joined us at Lothering, she always struck me as a creature of errant, almost sylph-like grace. Long, tapered fingers rested gently on my arm to stop me from proceeding further. It was just as well, I would've barged in if she hadn't stopped me. "You can see her later but for right now, you have to give Wynne some time."

I glanced at the tent, impatience and worry boiling over the fiery cauldron at the pit of my stomach. I was so uneasy I didn't know how to handle it. Something was wrong, I felt it in the air, in my bones, instincts cultivated from all our present toils.

"Elissa's still in there," I pointed out. I don't understand. Why couldn't I see her? See them both?

"She is," Leliana replied. "But Wynne kindly requested me, and has had the foresight to extend the same message to you, to give her a few moments alone with Lady Cousland. She has... some things to say."

That didn't help my worries any. At this point every single member of our party knew plenty enough about each other that when one of us keeps something to ourselves, the reasons are nothing but the most important ones. Traveling this long with the same people tended to do that, bonds forged regardless of what we initially felt about one another. Whatever this was, I already knew I wasn't going to like it, if I ever got told about it. I felt my jaw harden at its hinges, my eyes boring into Leliana's. But with the gentle, quiet pleading that I found in her dark irises, I wasn't about to rebuff her request either. Not when she said it so gently, so nicely.

With a curt nod, I spun on my heel and returned to Percival and the fire, my stomach in knots. I continued to wait there, my mood as dark as the sky above us. It was rare that I actually revealed what I felt on my face; my usual levity was part and parcel of a defense mechanism I developed and cultivated for years to wave off other people's inquiries about my more private self. I couldn't help it this time. I wondered what sort of quest Elissa would take us to solve this problem, since apparently that's what would-be heroes did when there's a world that needed saving; a lot of quests, a lot of talking, a lot of killing dangerous and hungry things to get to what we need.

If there was one involved, I was itching to get on with it. The sooner we go, the sooner Wynne would be better. I bet that was what she was discussing with Elissa now; a way to solve this particular conundrum.

I was on my feet again the moment I caught sight of a familiar, scarlet-haired head. But Elissa didn't join everyone else at the fire eating or conversing quietly. Instead, she pivoted, and moved away from the light, moving into the nearby trees that hid some of our cleverer traps... things that Elissa constructed herself to keep our campsite secure at night. I bit my tongue back in frustration, but I wasn't going to be denied. I left the log after scratching Percy's ears, and hurdled over a weighted barrel, moving towards her direction quickly. I caught up with her just before shadows enveloped the both of us, with nothing but leaves and the moon for company.

"So when do we leave?" I asked, falling a step next to her.

"What are you talking about?"

She was studiously not looking at me. I could tell because it was unusual for her to do that, she always looked me right in the eye unless what she had to say was difficult on a personal level.

"To help Wynne. There's another trip involved, right?" I asked, my voice growing a touch dry. "Let me guess. Whatever we need, we'll have to travel to the furthest direction the opposite of where we are now. We then need to find some rare bottle of magical elixir or some kind of rare yet miraculous item that will restore Wynne to full health after clearing out an entire cave system full of dark creatures and things I've never even heard about, much less seen before. Things will explode, chests will be looted, we'll end up having a lot of scrapes and bruises..."

"We're not going anywhere but the next destination," Elissa said bluntly, stopping on her walk and whirling around to face me. The look on her face was so... I couldn't describe it. Sadness, agitation. Fear, and lots of it. Dread sank into my gut.

As usual, I played it off. "So we're traveling in the right direction for once?" I asked, keeping my tone light. "Excellent. I'll even promise to get up extra early tomorrow morning."

"This isn't something we can fix." My fellow Warden looked away from me then.

"Maker's breath, Elissa," I pleaded, my tone exasperated. "You're killing me here. What's going on? In case you haven't noticed, it's taken a lifetime's worth of willpower not to disturb you women every ten minutes while I waited outside. You're not the only one who's worried."

Delicate features scrunched up before me. Something hard constricted my chest. She didn't have to say anything with the look she gave me. Somewhere deep down, I already knew.


	3. Chapter 3: Into the Breach

**Chapter 3: Into the Breach**

"Wynne's dying, Alistair."

The words that fell from her lips forced a disbelieving roar, a rush of blood pounding into my ears. I could barely hear what she was saying next. All I could see was her face, pain simmering in the undercurrents of her expression, but her jaw still set, still stubborn, determinedly pressing forward no matter how bad the words and their implications were.

"Surely there's something..." I couldn't help but say, my voice faint from shock. It shouldn't surprise me, given Wynne's advanced age. But she was so sprightly, so alive, so feisty when you got her going that it was hard to imagine...

"No. You....it's hard to put it in words. I don't know...if I could explain it adequately myself." Elissa swallowed visibly. "She died, before we got to her in the Tower. Something came to her while she faded and kept her alive, but that something...that spirit... it's fading now, too. The longer this goes on, the more tired she becomes and she..."

What?

"Wait." I lifted a hand to rub the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut to try and digest just what Elissa was try to say. "Let me see if I got this right. You're telling me Wynne's already dead, but she's somehow not?" It sounded ridiculous. It sounded insane. My expression was equal parts shocked and now somewhat incredulous. Powers help me, you would think after everything I've seen I'd be more of a believer. I stood in the chambers that held Andraste's ashes, for Maker's sake. "Elissa, how is that even possible? When something takes over a mage, he or she usually becomes..." I didn't want to say it.

"No. She's clearly not an abomination. She's something else." Elissa's lips pressed in a thin, stubborn line. "Something much more. Something clearly benevolent, despite what your Templar instincts tell you. I don't much care what she is, at any rate. She's Wynne, and she's my friend, and she's fading."

Fading.

"I..." I fell quiet, at that, forcing her words to sink in. It was a while before I talked again, breaking the heavy silence that fell between us. "I suppose... if she knows she's running on borrowed time, I could see why she didn't want to stay in the Circle and decided to come with us instead. It's not like we don't know what it's like, you and I. Out of everyone, we're the ones who know how it feels, what it's like to run with the hourglass."

Imminent death before the body truly dies in its own accord was the Fate of every Grey Warden. It was the price we paid for all the advantages that came with carrying the Taint, to better fight against the Darkness that continues to threaten this world. We know so little about the Blight despite the documents we collected in our travels that no one has found a way to eradicate it entirely, so this would have to do, for now; a neverending cycle of bloodshed and tears. As heavy as the cost was, it was one I paid gladly, when I took my oaths. It was one Elissa willingly paid, though sometimes I wonder if she took her oaths out of the sheer desire to do good, or because she felt she had nothing left after the massacre in Highever. I could see her choosing death if it meant bringing her to the doorsteps of those who took everything from her, to look them in the eyes while she took her measure of satisfaction. It was something I couldn't fault her for, with what I felt about Duncan's death.

I have had time to accept it, that I was going to die before my time. I broke the news to Elissa a while back, though she was careful in hiding what she really felt about it. In this regard, I felt more of a kinship with Wynne than I even thought possible, myself... after all, I was almost a templar, and she was a mage. If things had been different, I would be her overseer instead of traveling companion. Wynne clearly got a second chance to do some good, and she was going to do it with what was left of her.

I knew I liked her for a reason.

"I can't..." Her voice faltered at that, words that drew me out of my reverie. The proud line of her shoulders lowered, slumped a bit. "You don't know...how much this terrifies me, sometimes."

"We all die eventually, Elissa."

"I know. But I never want to be the cause. Ever."

Her expression was the most tender I've ever seen. Its appearance was so sudden, I couldn't help but be stunned.

"I know..." She paused, her brows drawing together, to think about what she was going to say next before communicating them. "That it's a commander's burden to watch his or her men die for the sake of the cause if he or she doesn't die first. To keep moving and achieving set objectives... to fulfill what must be done for an end greater than the individuals that work towards it. I...if I did this long enough, if I was hard enough, I have no doubts I'll be able to keep moving. But I'm new at this, Alistair. I haven't developed the emotional calluses necessary to withstand that kind of loss. We have achieved every single thing we set out to do, so far. We have the knights, we have the dwarves, we have the elves, and the mages, and the templars. I can't help but feel that... from this point forward that it's bound to happen, and it's already happening."

Her swallow was audible. "I don't know what I would do, how I would be able to cope, if I lost you," she confessed. "Lost any of you. Sten is so insistent that I've been carrying us all along, but that's not true. It hasn't been the moment you set off with me out of the Wilds with Morrigan. We've gone so far, been through so much together that I'm so scared of the possibility that after this is over, I'll be the only one left standing when I can think of no better group that should win the right to survive this. To find our own happiness once it's time to go our separate ways. We all earned that much. We all deserve that much."

Her fists clenched at her sides as I watched, and marveled.

Elissa was many things, but she was, first and foremost, a survivor, instincts that more often than not clashed with the dictations of her nobler, Cousland heart. I knew that the moment I watched her threaten the Reverend Mother of Lothering's Chantry for the right to Sten's key, an action which she knew I would disapprove of, but she did it anyway to break through the stonewall of the woman's recalcitrance to release the qunari. There were many times in our journey in where I disliked her decisions, but they kept us all together, and despite them, I found myself admiring her. Those thoughts, however, remained in the threshold of a certain understanding that she would do what was necessary in the end, no matter how attached she was getting to all of us.

But this...

This was the first time I was hearing of the depths of her care, the breadth of her attachment and affection for her men and women; the sound of her voice, the look on her face. I've seen her play the part of the victim, the aggressor, the smooth-talking liar, the charming daughter of Bryce Cousland. A capable actress, she had many faces and she had no scruples in wearing them when she felt it was necessary, but like in the moments where I would observe her do her rounds at the campfire to speak with everyone, I felt as if this was actually her; the potent core of her that drew me in like a moth and uncaring as to whether she would burn my wings.

So many layers to peel off, so many to prod through and explore.

My little onion.

She blinked. "What?"

What? Oh, crap! Did my inside voice get out?

"I was just saying that because everything you said nearly brought a tear or several to my eyes." I let out an exaggerated sniff, pantomimed wiping moisture off my face with a hand. "To think our esteemed leader cared this much about my poor hide! You have no idea how touched I am. Wait till everyone hears about it!"

It was gratifying to watch her palm her face, injecting some much needed levity in the conversation. "...I was being serious, you know," Elissa groaned, rolling her head back and her eyes up at the copse of stars above our heads. It was the very picture of one praying for divine patience.

"I know." I smiled at her, and then sighed. "I think... with everything that you said, we're all terrified in some degree, Elissa. It's not exactly easy to decide for yourself that you're willingly signing on a trip to kill a giant, tainted dragon that commands legions of Darkspawn that you'll probably have to fight through. If that doesn't scream 'suicide mission,' I don't know what does."

I met her eyes at that and held them, my voice growing serious. "But you have to trust us," I said simply. "We trust you to lead, you should trust us to follow." My hand lifted to rest over my heart. "None of us are going anywhere until this is done and we end up at those crossroads again. I think despite her condition, Wynne's already decided that, knowing her."

The expression she wore at the moment brought me back to the eastern tower in Redcliffe, when I actually managed to say a few things that she took to heart, and still does to this day. Surprise, perhaps, tempered with the degree of affection that she just admitted holding for all of us.

"So... do me a favor. Have a little faith. We're not exactly the most boring bunch in the world." I grinned, and angled a brow at her. "We've surprised plenty, getting this far. Far be it for us to break our record."

She smiled, at that, turning away from me for a moment, her arms crossing over her chest as she surveyed the nearby clearing. "Thank you, Alistair."

"Don't spread it around."

"I know, I know. You have a reputation."

"Glad we understand each other."

"We do."

"Good." I yawned, dropping my weight against the nearest tree and stretching. The silence afterwards, unlike others that have come before, was comfortable. Companionable, even. Moments like these just accumulated in number between us, and despite my exhaustion, knowing I ought to sleep if I wanted to be ready for another long walk in the morrow. I couldn't, however, bring myself to leave her, not when I've seen an entirely new side of her. Not yet.

I may or may not regret staying, at the following words she spoke.

"I lied to you."

Well, that was interesting. It was rare for anyone to admit to the victim that he or she lied, much less look you right in the face while doing so. Despite our earlier troubles, my constant harping on her less popular decisions, and the difficulties I discovered in connecting with her, I... we somehow keep finding ourselves here, away from the rest, just the two of us talking seriously and discussing subjects that I normally wouldn't. Not with anyone else. It's odd to think this considering she just admitted that she was dishonest with me about something, but these times with her, these talks, have always been very frank, levels of sincerity and genuine desire to get to know each other under the onion-skin layers that defined us prevalent.

I crossed my arms over my chest and braced myself. "About what?" I asked, and to my credit, I didn't sound too wary.

"What I said before, at Redcliffe*," Elissa explained, her lashes lowering, her face tilting upwards to look at me directly. "About not giving a damn whether you forgave me or not. It wasn't true. I do....give a damn, I mean. Your opinion matters to me. It always has."

I looked at her levelly, despite my heart suddenly beating like a timpani drum, forcing swelling echoes into my ribcage. "So you didn't mean it," I reiterated. "That you didn't give a damn whether I forgave you."

"No," she replied. "I didn't."

"Which means that you actually do care... if I never did."

"That's right."

"Well enough," I said, turning fully to face her direction, my strides stalking towards her. "And what about the rest of me?"

The statement was bold, even for me, but I couldn't even hear my own words in reply as they left my mouth, the dull roar of blood rushing into my ears and hot, searing magma suddenly infused directly into my bloodstream. Her eyes widened as I approached, unmindful of the tree behind her... she didn't know it was there until her spine found it, but she was still staring at me, wide-eyed, her lips parted and a single word leaving them.

"I-- "

She would've said more, if I didn't prevent her from doing so.

My hands cupped her face once I was close enough. After all the tension, all the arguments, all the conversations and the instances in which the desire to know her mouth assailed me, I would've thought that perhaps male instinct would drive me to be more impatient. However, I was too aware of my inexperience to rush headlong. The first touch of my lips was gentle against hers, my hands working gently to tip her head upwards to compensate for her shorter height and intercept the dipping of my head.

I crossed a line, and fell into the breach. No one was more aware of this than I, save perhaps her. But at the moment, I didn't much care. Perhaps I would regret it later on, but it's hard to imagine it, not when tiny shocks of sensation are spiderwebbing through my senses, dormant nerves suddenly alive just by a mere brushing. I felt like I was being struck by lightning, originating from her mouth and passing into mine, and thanks to Morrigan, I actually knew what that was like.

She stiffened. I felt it. Surprise marked her every gesture as her hands flew on my forearms and her fingers grasping me there. Rejection may be in my future, I was already prepared for it, but then she drew her arms around my torso. Her supple mouth grew pliant, parting under mine after a quiet breath.

Something in me snapped. My fingertips buried further into her hair, tangling rapturously against crimson strands. My head drove down in an angle, taking what was offered to me and invited there by the moist touch of her tongue against mine. I was barely aware of my body pressing closer against hers, a palm leaving her head to brace alongside it against the bark of the tree behind her. And I kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her... kisses folded over kisses until the cadence of my breathing grew more intermittent, tiny sips of air too lacking and insufficient to sustain the sudden conflagration of my demands.

She groaned, somewhere at the back of her throat. The sound was almost enough to blow the top of my head off. My hands left her face, the tree, winding them around her and dragging her closer to me. Her arms folded over my neck, and at that point, I couldn't think of anything else. The lines between our bodies blurred, it was hard to determine where hers started and where mine began, the contours of her own mapped out through ghostly impressions... gentle, graceful lines through clothing that I felt but ones which I couldn't bring myself to know just yet.

It ended, because it must. Despite realizing that her passions ran as red as her hair, I wasn't about to ruin anything by going too fast. My mouth left hers, and my forehead found the rough bark of the tree behind her instead, searching everywhere for the composure I lost. Her grip on me sagged. In my arms, she felt boneless. Her breath panted close to my ear and hearing it just made me want to do it all over again.

"Alistair..." she murmured. She sounded dazed, and when I pulled back to look at her, her eyes were barely open, the sheen of her dark irises glassy under the shadows. "I've never..."

Her own, admitted lack of experience was relieving.

"Neither have I."

She drew her mouth back to mine, and I obliged her.


	4. Chapter 4: State of Contentedness

**Chapter 4: State of Contentedness**

I was awake before the sun rose. The air was crisp on my nostrils and my eyes took in the splashes of red, gold, and indigo unfurled over the low horizon like banners. Most of the camp was still asleep, and judging by Oghren's windows-rattling snore coming from somewhere outside, I was certain that everyone was sleeping deeply enough that even the dwarf's noises wouldn't rouse them. Now was my chance, while it was early and while we still had time before we broke up camp. Pulling a shirt on, and grabbing my sword, I ducked out of my tent and went right into Zevran's.

Maker, I hope I don't regret this.

"Zev." I pitched my voice low, crouching on one knee and shaking him by the shoulder. "Zev, get up. I need your help with something."

The elf's eyes flickered open. He yawned, and stretched like a cat on his bedroll. He shifted on his back, and he smiled. Slowly. The kind of smile that always made me nervous, especially since I didn't really know what his deal was. "Mmmm..." he purred. "Were you intending on giving me a proper good morning?"

"I...uh." Maker, he always does this.

Zevran grinned at me sharply. "It never fails to make you speechless," he remarked, triumphant.

I narrowed my eyes at him in a mock-glower. "You're going to get yours eventually."

He snickered, sitting up. "I look forward to it. In the meantime, what can I do for you?"

I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "I need your help to find something," I told him. "I'm adept at barreling around killing things, but what I had in mind requires a bit of finesse. That and I figured...you'd be the best person to help me with this since what I'm looking for is in the forest somewhere."

"Ooooh?" His brows lifted upwards, intrigued.

The explanation of the plan was brief. Zevran couldn't help but roll his eyes when it was over, but he got dressed and took some arms with him. The two of us ventured out of the camp, beyond the perimeter Elissa had constructed the night before. We headed further into the tree line, picking our way through long blades of grass and brush. The assassin saw it first, as I knew he would, given his eyes. We found one after just an hour or so of searching. He pointed at it with a gloved hand.

The beehive hung precariously on one of the higher branches.

"Great," I said, cracking my knuckles. "So how do we do this?"

"It's simple, really," the Crow said, squinting upwards. "We lure the insects out and make off with their nest. It does not get more straightforward than that."

"Alright. So, how do we do that?"

His head turned to me, and he smiled that smile. I furrowed my brows at him, cocked my head. I must have looked like Percival, given how confused I was. Why was he looking at me like that? What was he planning?

He tossed a slim dagger around his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, taking full advantage of elven dexterity, the dangerous blade flew upwards. I stared in horror as it cut through the branch, the buzzing husk falling down to the ground.

"Are you INSANE?!" I cried.

"If you run fast enough, you can get to the lake in time!"

"WHAT?!"

The elf gave me a salute, before suddenly vanishing from where he stood. He was good at that, disappearing before anyone (ie. Me) could do something like, I don't know, snap his neck for turning me from adventurer to bee bait in ten seconds! I turned tail and ran, as fast as my legs could carry me. I knew where the lake was, it was straight ahead somewhere. Naturally, the angry pests followed, I could hear them buzzing as they gave chase.

I ran faster, and faster....this was the quickest I've ever moved. Sadly, I wasn't even concerned about being stung, what really fueled me was the drive to live through this so I could go back to camp and strangle the Crow. It didn't take long, considering all of this. Seeing sunlight ripple on the glassy surface of the pool coming up in front of me, I wasted no time. I hurled myself into the water; shirt, breeches, boots, sword and all. Cold crashed into me like a mirror, shattering fragments of frost into my bones as I sank deeply into it. The water closed above my head, shielding me from angry stingers. I felt relief like no other.

When I finally made it back to camp, I was soaked, dripping water everywhere, my clothing plastered onto me like second skin. I carried my prize with me on one hand, my sodden sword in another. The sun was up by the time I crossed the perimeter, where I could see Leliana, Morrigan, Oghren and Sten awake and having a bit of breakfast.

Zevran left his tent to join them. "Aha! The triumphant hero returns," he greeted with a wicked grin.

Leliana looked up from her meal. Appreciation settled on her features, her brows lifted as she eyed me up and down. "Oh, Zevran," she said with a laugh. "You were right after all!"

Eh?

Morrigan's face was much more critical, though whatever she found on me ellicited something grudging. "Not half-bad I suppose," she said, and this was, perhaps, the most agreeable I've ever seen her.

Just what were they talking about?

Sadly, it was Oghren who finally drove it home.

"Yeah," he grunted, taking a large gulp from his flask. "I'd roll you."

Horror twisted my features. What?! Oh, Maker! I wasn't in the right headspace for this! I yanked the front of my shirt outwards to keep it from sticking on me, my face aflame. I glowered at the rest of them as they all shared a laugh at my expense.

Well, come to think of it, I spared Sten from the glowering. He wasn't laughing, and he shared my long-suffering expression.

"I," I began, taking a breath and drawing in the remains of my tattered dignity. "Hate all of you."

"Lies," the assassin said in between gales of laughter, waving my comment away dismissively.

"Oh, Alistair, you're a dear," Leliana said, wiping tears from her eyes and standing up. "Here, let me help you with that hive. You wanted what was in it, yes?"

It didn't take long to prepare, but once the tray was arranged, I carried it to Wynne's tent. I didn't know for certain if she was awake, but considering the group was causing a holy ruckus outside, I wasn't too worried. Sure enough, the white-haired mage was up, situated comfortably on her bedroll and speaking to Elissa, who was seated by the side of her on the ground. The two of them looked up as I arrived.

The arrangement wasn't too lavish. A few slices of bread, some cheese, and some fruit we purchased from a passing vendor along the way. Leliana and I managed to harvest the fresh honey and to my credit, I managed not to hack the combs to jagged pieces. The way the older woman's face lit up caused me to fidget a little awkwardly, but I did my best to brush it off, getting down on one knee and shifted the tray into her lap.

"You should, ah..." I cleared my throat. "Get a decent meal in you before we head off, Wynne."

She sighed softly, at that. "Oh, you dear boy." Her hand lifted to pat my cheek. "All this trouble...you really shouldn't have."

"It's no trouble," I assured, feeling Elissa's eyes on me from Wynne's other side. I paused, at that. "...well. Some trouble. Funny story, really, getting the honey, but I'll tell you about that in a bit."

My fellow Warden moved to stand up. "I better see what everyone else is up to," she said, smiling at the both of us. "And start on the next leg of travel. Take your time, Wynne, Alistair."

I glanced at Wynne for a moment, standing up myself and moving to intercept Elissa before she left the tent. My hand extended, to rest gently over her elbow. I produced a small, yellow blossom on the other, which I lifted up for her to see. I was all too conscious of Wynne watching the exchange, considering I felt embarrassed enough, but I seized my chance while the audience was minimal.

"Here." Inwardly, I hoped that I didn't look as shy as that sounded, my brows lifting in an inquiring fashion. "Before you get the wrong idea or anything."

Wynne chuckled, at that.

Elissa blinked, her dark eyes falling on the golden petals, and then up to my face. Her slender fingers took the simple gift, her lips lifting upwards in an answering grin. "I'll see you outside," she replied, tucking it behind her ear, the blossom pressed against her hair.

I nodded, at that. My grasping hand slid down from her elbow to her fingers, lifting her hand up so I could brush my lips over the back of it. Our eyes met, the same memory from the evening before passing between us - unsaid, and currently unaddressed, but acknowledged.

The slightest hint of pink suffused into her cheeks. Elissa cleared her throat, and left the tent after.

I exhaled the breath I didn't know I was holding. I turned back to Wynne, and caught her smirking at me. "What?" I asked, all obliviousness and innocence, moving to her side and dropping down heavily onto the ground.

"Made a bit of progress, did we?" Wynne prompted, brows lifted. To my satisfaction, she turned to her tray, dribbling some honey into a warm slice of bread before taking a delicate bite from it.

"A gentleman never tells," I replied, my tone casual. "Are you feeling better? Elissa... told me."

"I thought she might." Wynne's blue eyes lifted upwards. "We keep little secrets here, at camp. I'm certain Leliana had been eavesdropping when I told Elissa everything the other day. If everyone doesn't know, by now, they'll know it at nightfall."

"True enough."

I watched her eat, falling quiet for the time being. I was more concerned in seeing her fed than discussing anything, really. I wasn't lying when I told Elissa that out of everyone, she and I would be the ones who could relate to her situation. I got the sense that she was grateful for it, that I wasn't asking any questions, that I wasn't pleading for her to tell me if there was something, anything I could do. A man never fails to wish that he could fix things, especially when it came to people he cared about... but I knew in this case, it was fruitless.

Still, some things needed to be said.

"I'm happy that you chose to come with us, you know," I told her. "Anyone in your position would have been content to wait for the inevitable."

She chuckled, at that. "I was never that kind of woman." Wynne took a quiet breath, angling her head to turn her eyes towards me and smile. "I learned a long time ago what it was like to truly, utterly regret. I resolved never to feel such a thing again, if I could help it. I could've spent my remaining years in the Circle, but I thought you young ones needed all the help you could get. Especially with a cause as great and as noble as this."

Her smile tempered, her expression growing more serious as she looked at me. "The sacrifices we must endure will only become greater from here on in," she said quietly. "Now that we're so close to the end."

"I know," I murmured. "But once it's time to make them, we'll be ready."

Affection, pure and genuine, softened her features. She reached out a hand, to pat on my worn knuckles.

"Don't ever change, Alistair."

I turned my hand over, grasping her fingers and giving them a squeeze.

"I won't."

**FIN**

* * *

_Character notes:_

_1) The kiss - despite a myriad of moments in which Alistair comes off as extremely hesitant, especially towards the female PC that he's in love with, he always struck me as a bit of a hothead and he could be driven to act on his impulses (ex. rose-giving scene). The game doesn't really explore the hinted-at recklessness further, which I chose to rectify here._

_2) Bees! - Well, you'd run too, if you were chased by them. ;)_

_'Till next time! _


End file.
